A Fairy Tale Before Bedtime
by HotMuffinCrumbs
Summary: A different life, a different reality, and a lot of different stories. A bunch of one-shots concerning Danny Phantom.
1. Stupid Mistake

Stupid Mistake

_- It was a mistake, just a small one, hardly noticeable. But it didn't matter, she saw anyway. - Suspense, Angst_

* * *

I have caught Danny doing something very strange, and I'm not entirely sure what to do with it. I didn't even see it at first, happy enough that my son was starting to show interest in our work, instead of the desperate groans for normality. The questions made me proud, to show him made me excited, his smile made me happy. It also made me blind for his blank stare burning into my back the moment I turned around.

Jack was booming, overjoyed by Danny's presence, he even started singing under the shower, tap his feet and humming along when being busy with the taxes, his least favourite activity. And I couldn't be more happy myself. Jazz came down sometimes too, bringing a few snacks and staying a while for a quick chat. It all was just so perfect, like we were finally falling back to being a family again.

But I saw, I saw every time, I just didn't notice before.

Danny was stealing, our equipment, our notes, he took them silently. Or sabotage our weapons, cutting a wire, keep us guessing as the ectoplasm seeped through the loose screws instead of forming a stable power source. Not to forget the ectoplasmic entities we found molten because someone had calculated the wrong conditions in its cell. Danny was trying to ruin us.

I felt hurt, discovering your son trying to burn your business to the ground behind your back. I watched him, even more closely, suddenly feeling very unsure how to laugh at his jokes, or respond correctly to his hugs and kisses. I didn't tell Jack, but I'm sure he noticed too, the absence of my sincerity. The bond with my son had suddenly gotten incredibly difficult, it was enough to keep me unable to sleep at night.

I tried to ask him once, probably a bit too subtle.

"Danny, that one time you had that presentation about us, you know, in 5th grade, would you have had us rather be something else, instead of… this?".

Danny looked surprised at the question, frowned and put down his peanut butter and chocolate sprinkles sandwich, staring at me. I felt nervous as I waited for his answer, finding myself biting my lip.

"No, no, of course not." He laughed, smiling up at me with those beautiful blue eyes of his "You guys love your job, I couldn't wish for anything better.".

"I'm glad to hear that." I told him, smile not reaching my eyes as I kissed his forehead before going back downstairs, brain overheating as gears ran even faster than before.

But then I witnessed to most strange thing of the whole bunch. As I was fixing my broken hairdryer, I saw him dipping his finger in some ectoplasm, holding it close to his face as he examined it from different perspectives. I wanted to yell at him to wash his hands, quickly, before the alpha-radiation could do any damage, but was silenced as he carefully licked his finger clean.

Eyes widened, I watched him shudder in delight, before twisting in disgust. I watched his glazed eyes, smiling as he sunk away into his chair, and tears threatening to spill as his body shock as he was forced to cover his mouth to keep himself from coughing to loudly. He didn't try the taste again, and instead went upstairs without a word said. I stood up confused, cleared the table of the samples and felt my fingers go numb.

Jack nudged me, gave me a kiss I half-heartedly returned, having a lump in my throat I wasn't able to clear.

The days after, nothing much changed, he never again left my sight, but the radioactive poisoning never seemed to take an effect, leaving me puzzled and terrified. Several theories had popped up in my head , but the no matter what kind of tests I did, the results were inconclusive. So, conclusively, he had to be my Danny, right? I recognised too much for him not to be, this had to be the boy I raised.

Jack never saw anything wrong. Most times I tried to bring it up, he didn't catch on. It was kind of frustrating, but I didn't push the matter. I wasn't even sure of the facts myself yet, I couldn't just start claiming things without evidence, neither did I want our already rusting relationship completely crumble to dust. But Danny was trying to hurt our business, but getting angry wasn't going to positively influence his view about everything.

It was just, this headache hadn't left me for weeks…

"Mads, are you feeling alright?".

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, don't worry darling.".

Great, now even Jack was noticing something was off. Jazz too was worried, except she had been worrying about this family since she went to middle school, which probably wasn't that healthy. But Jazz was a very active supporter of these ghosts and the different theories that had spread around this town over the years, especially those about that Phantom. Maybe Jazz had, well… nudged Danny to make our jobs, a little bit more difficult. Of course I couldn't prove anything, just a weak theory, a bit of brainstorming, but it could not be excluded either.

Danny was down, asking Jack about some homework, some math equations he couldn't seem to wrap his head around. I was always happy to know he was back fighting for his place in NASA, because both Jack and I knew how precious dreams are. And surely I was watching him, finding myself scribble down my notebook, making notes about my _son. _He was my son of course.

Danny was smiling, unaware of me lurking in the back. The moment Jack left, Danny smiled again, shaking his head as he looked at the small pile of paper in front of him, but it felt rather alien to me. No, that wasn't Danny himself, just the reflection of the portal, who lit up the lab in the background. That swirling vortex of green goo that Jack and I were still just as clueless about. And Danny was staring right into it with that dreamy look on his face, faint smile never wavering. You would have expected otherwise, especially after the whole incident.

The incident, of course, that horrible incident. Just… I can still see him lying in that hospital bed, clearly shaken and hurt. Jack and I had even talked about closing the portal again afterwards, but we just never, gotten to actually doing it.

And Danny had been alright, just bedridden for two weeks, mostly kept for observation and making just he was back to his normal sleeping patterns when he returned home. It had been our fault he had to miss those first two weeks in high school, which I know have caused him a difficult start. It was a memory I always felt very guilty about, but tried to remember myself of every once in a while. Danny instead, never even mentioned it, it was clearly a sore subject and I didn't try to push it, even if Jazz encouraged me so to do the opposite. I could never shake the feeling that he blamed us still, for being such irresponsible parents.

But, being exposed to so much energy at once, surely it wouldn't be strange if it had left _some_ unwanted side-effects, for example, developing some kind of immune system to, guessing randomly, radioactivity? It sounded farfetched, I was aware of this fact, but it could just be the key that would tie everything into this nice little bow. Well, mostly, of course there were still left a few issues unsolved. I didn't appreciate stealing, neither did our sponsors, but I had to set priorities.

So I'd gotten this little rat, a very pretty little rat, rather cute and very healthy, the perfect little lab rat, and just, placed him in the portal, a portal that was yet to be plugged in again. The moment I turned it on, I could swear I could still hear Danny's screams echo in the lab. I wanted desperately to hold Jack, feeling very cold down here alone.

I fished the little rat out of the portal again, with the helpful use of the Fenton Ghost Fisher, and watched the fried remains of the poor creature. Its little crisped skeleton, burned an ashen black, looked at me miserably. I wasn't reassuring me much.

I could better just expose of it immediately, I had thought, but as I was behind and turned to pick the remains up again, they had disappeared. Probably just a cat, but I was getting a bit dizzy.

Danny had been over at Sam that weekend, and I heard later they've had a very fun time together. I was glad for my son, his happiness had always been very important to me, but losing him out of my sight made my whole body itch.

But then, that night came, when I saw Danny, truly saw him, in the dark, for it was night. He was crouched over this bird, it had fallen and was left injured and unable to fly. Death was an unavoidable destiny. But Danny held it, wrapped his hands around it carefully and very caring, stroking it feathers. It made me appreciate being his mother.

As I wanted to call out to him, his expression changed, suddenly becoming very ugly as he separated the small bird from the outside and smothered it in his large hands. I watched breathlessly, hearth pounding loudly inside my chest, body frozen in the middle of the street.

His eyes started glowing, such a hateful toxic green, a jealous green alongside his hands. I could feel the heat radiate from the bright colour, the burning energy which could power a city but always choose to destroy one instead. I watched it eat up the air and lit the street, casting a shadow on my boy's face I recognised form all those times before while his pale hands continued to hold the bird.

Smoke rose from between his fingers, which he breathed in deeply, eyes half-lidded. The small animal had not cried out once, but its death had been a fact from the moment Danny had picked it up. Was he even Danny, no, such an awful being could never be my son.

The light died out, enabling me to see him fully once again. Carefully, he peeled his hands apart from one another, dust getting blown away by the wind and polluting the air. A small green blob stayed behind, little red eyes looking around with curiosity. The sight made me shiver as I saw Danny's loving eyes look down upon the thing with a satisfied grin. This wasn't my Danny.

It moved, squirming in his hands as it took in its surroundings. He poked at it with his finger, but hardly got any reaction. It was terrifying to see the green return in those beautiful eyes, eyes who I had seen grow over the years. I had wanted nothing more than to turn around and walk away, or rather wake up to find out it was my twisted imagination as result of the too little sleep and too much coffee.

He lifted it above his head, spreading his mouth open wide and sticking out his snakelike tongue. He dislocated his jaw and tore his cheeks, dropped it and chewed before finally swallowing.

I gasped without realising. He heard.

His smile dropped, eyes turning wide as they flickered back to blue while the skin of his cheeks knitted itself back together again. Radioactive green mixed with saliva trickled down his chin. It was the first time seeing his blue eyes glow just as brightly as his green ones. He ran, disappearing into the wall beside him, leaving behind a silhouette of frost.

* * *

Completed: 12-01-14


	2. You and Me

You and Me

_- I Hate him, and for some apparent reason he finds it the most amusing thing in the world. - Angst_

* * *

I hate him, I fucking hate him. There wasn't a hair on his head I don't despise. His terrible existence, merely to make my life a living hell, like there wasn't anything more entertaining than to see me suffer.

I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.

And yet my hatred towards him is the only fuel keeping me going. It is pathetic.

With his smug smile, he looks back at me, always seeming so damn pleased with himself about ruining everything I got, burning it all to the ground. And of course, he would be standing over, warming his hands on the hot flames. The freaking psychopath.

I hate him so much. And I don't understand him at all, which only angers me more.

"Why, why are you doing this to me?" I cry out to him. He only shrugs his shoulders playfully, looking up at me with large eyes full of innocence, until unable to suppress the wide grin that had been pulling his lips into a strange pout.

"WHY ME, WHY ME! GOD DAMNIT, JUST TELL ME ALREADY!" He laughs at my outburst as I try my best to contain the tears that threatened to spill. I felt extremely ridiculed, especially together with feeling stripped naked in front of him. It was horrible to know he knew me better than anyone, like a nursery song he memorised from kindergarten. While I was left with even littler every time he came to visit.

He sat down, picking his nose while he studied me. I watched him roll the booger into a little ball, looking up at me with that internal grin plastered on his face, before flicking it my way. I should have seen it coming, but it didn't change me picking up a chair and hurling it at the glass with a loud cry. Sadly, he jumped out of the way in time.

The fragments of glass flew across the room, brushing against my skin but not causing any cuts. My breathing was ragged and heavy, a pressure in my head felt like it was about to pop out my eyes while my skin was hot and itching.

"I'm going to eliminate you, you worthless piece of shit!" I threaten him, feeling my heart race in my chest "Just you wait, I'll find a way, and when I do, you won't even see me coming." I spat, hatred seeping into every cell of my being like the venom of a snake. He waved me off, looking amused as I quivered with anger.

He didn't look surprised of course, which didn't surprise me in return as I leaned back and ran my hands through my hair. It stuck to my face, sweat serving as the glue.

I let myself sink through my legs, exhausted, as I sat opposite of him, fists still clenched shut tightly.

He looked at me curiously, frowning as he ran circles on the floor with his finger. I wasn't sure what he was still waiting for, me being pretty much out of breath and unable to lift myself off the ground again.

But I rather not understand him, for I hate him with every cell of my body, and I could care less. Beside, I'm pretty sure he isn't able to feel compassion himself, so why sympathize? He's less that an insect, worse than an typhoon, and I was still powerless to stop him.

But why, why was he so certain in making me miserable, I honestly don't remember ever doing anything horrible to another person. But of course he didn't count, since he wasn't a person at all. Not even close.

I shut my eyes, just briefly, but I could feel him beside me, laughing in the back of my mind. But when opening my eyes again, he would still be sitting there, not having moved an inch.

"Please, just leave me alone…" I beg. But he shakes his head, smiling. A shuddering breath escapes my mouth, feeling tears sting my eyes. It's already too late when I move my hands to push them back into my eye sockets as they trickle down my cheeks, wiping the salt tears all across my face. But I don't cry or sob, just stare back at him, trying to make him understand my pain.

He doesn't.

I scowl, rub my face clean with my sleeve and stand up again, finally walking away. I hate him. It doesn't matter where I go, he'll find me, and waste everybody I come across. Absolutely destroying them, erasing them from history. His laughter never ceases.

No, I couldn't stand him, my reflection.

* * *

Completed: 18-01-14


	3. Ghost on the Block: Part 1

Ghost on the Block

Part 1

_- She just bought the house, how was she supposed to know it was haunted? - Humour_

* * *

It was just a house, normal enough, painfully ordinary even if she dared say so. But still, something was different, apart from the lack of garden which had disappointed her dearly, and that was the fact that it was her own, her private little sanctuary where nobody dared cross her. She was queen in this little castle, and she absolutely loved it.

She watched the movers unload the truck, one box after another, and decided to lend a hand. It was never something for her to watch others work their asses of in front of her, it was the least she could do, and maybe afterwards she'll make some coffee and have a little chitchat with the guys.

Oh, and yeah, before she forgot, she had to buy paint, buckets full, because these bare walls were sucking away at her positivity.

* * *

"Ah, hey mom." Sam smiled, holding her phone between her shoulder and ear as she continued to paint the walls a rich purple, clothed in nothing more than sweatpants and an old t-shirt, hair tied together in a short pigtail. It was always good to know her parents still cared to call.

"I'm fine, really, moving's going smoothly and all, going to start my new job soon, so nothing much to worry about…" She painted the last bit, releasing a satisfied sigh as she climbed down the ladder. Brush still in hand, she moved to wipe the sweat of her forehead, but instead smeared paint all across. Someone snickered on the background. Thinking it was her father, she ignored it.

"No, everybody is really nice and all, got a view cards and the woman living at the end of the street even baked me some pie." She sat down on her plastic coated couch and let the brush fall back into the paint tray. "Apple and cinnamon." She answered her mother's question, leaning over to grab her lemonade and take a sip. "No, no, of course yours are better." She laughed again.

It was strange to think how much better their communication had gotten after she left.

Stirring her drink, she felt the cold hard floor underneath her feet, still unpleasant even with her thick woollen socks. It was a relieve for her to know the carpet layers would hop by soon. She still wasn't sure if white was going to be a smart decision, considering stains.

"So, how have things been going with you guys" She asked, right before she stopped listening, falling back to a simple 'aha' and 'oh' once in a while, because honestly, her mom could go on forever.

It was raining, skies a dark grey even if it was just past noon. The little light above her head, causing a weak yellow glow, already gave the room a very warm atmosphere. Just yesterday she'd tried to brighten up her front porch a bit my planting some Chinese Wisteria, but nothing much was still showing. It wasn't surprising, only a couple days had passed.

"Hey mom, not trying to sound rude or anything, but I still have a lot of stuff to finish, so I have to cut this conversation short." There was a short pause as she listened to her mother reply "Yeah, sure, no problem. No, a bit of help is always welcome, yes. Okay, yeah, sure, see you around hen. Hugs and kisses, don't forget to share some with dad. Bye mom, yeah okay, bye." Finally she hung up, staring at the screen for a couple more seconds before tossing it on the table.

Stretching a bit, feeling her stiff muscles protest, she moved to gather her stuff and walk up the stairs. She still had a whole floor to paint after all, and she was certain the deep red colour would look stunning once she was done.

* * *

Pain, that was the only thing she could think of while laying in bed exhausted, a towel wrapped around her short black hair and body clean and smelling like coconut. The thought of a warm bath could yet only be fulfilled in one of her dreams, as she still had the bathroom to fix and lay a lot of tiles while the current tub was non-existent. Not like a shower wasn't nice, especially with the massage setting, god bless the one who invented that beauty, but a _bath_… No, a shower didn't compare.

She almost dozed off, eyelids heavy from a day of hard labour, but she wasn't even in her PJ's yet. Lifting herself from the soft matrass, her legs cried out from underneath her, she wasn't going to lie that this house was really pushing her limits. Everything had to be built from scratch, and she didn't have the muscle, at least not on her own.

She had known what she was getting herself into when she bought the damn house, that it had been restored a while back, because of a fire of some sort, which was why everything looked so clean and shiny compared to other houses on the block, and that it would take her a lot of investing to make a proper living space. It was also why it had been for sale for such a low price, beside the economy of course. But honest to god, she regretted actually _not_ knowing what she was getting herself into, and her body hated her for it too.

Dropping the towel strapped around her waist, she pulled on her PJ's, body still damp from the shower and causing the fabric to stick to her skin. She turned around, muttering a silent curse as she saw the print she had left on her now soaked blankets.

Grabbing her stuffed bat, she crawled underneath the blankets, leaving the springs to take away any strain from her body, completely worn out. With just the energy to lift her arm to switch the lights off, Sam was taken away into her subconscious, small smile tugging at her lips out of satisfaction, but unaware of the figure watching from the shadows.

* * *

Caramel coffee with extra cream, there wasn't anything sweeter in life, because with every sip, she literally feel her teeth rot away under the sugary goodness. Not that it matter, because she enjoyed it way too much to give up. Not like drinking orange juice would be any better.

She played with the cup, sitting alone in the strange '80 themed fast-food restaurant with the oh so appealing name. She didn't really mind, she was new, it was natural for her to still be running a little low on familiar faces. And even though she liked to make herself believe the opposite, she wasn't one to barge in a conversation at all.

Speaking of the devil.

"Hey there, I'm Tucker Foley, that's TF, for too fine." An African American guy smiled, wearing a simple white t-shirt and trousers, dreadlocks pulled together with a rubber band. Sam winched, shifting away from his outstretched hand.

"Ah, sorry, not interested." Sam apologized. The guy, Tucker, shrugged his shoulders, not really that effected by the rejection. This was, after all, not the first time.

"Mind if I sit with you then?" He asked instead, pointing to the empty seat in front of her. She couldn't say she had a problem with it, gesturing for him to sit down, even though she really rather have him not. She couldn't help but let the confusion be noticeable on her face as he sat down.

"I haven't seen you around before, you the new girl or something?" He asked.

"I would hardly call myself a girl anymore, but yeah. The name's Sam by the way." She said, holding her hand out for a quick shake, which was a bit awkward considering herself rejecting his handshake mere second before. Tucker didn't seem to think much about it.

"I know.".

This left her frowning.

Tucked noticed her confused stare and smiled "You might have noticed, but this town ain't that large, word travels fast. So, it's like Manmon, right?".

"Almost, but not quite. It's, uh, it's Manson.". Tucked just nodded, turning to one of the waiters who walked by, ready to have his order taken.

Looking over at Tucker again, Sam felt ridiculously overdressed, with her black tank dress, panty and trusty combat boots, a few coloured buttons pinned to her left bosom to spice it all up a bit and small bats hanging from her ears. Luckily for her, she'd gone easy on the make-up, otherwise she would have truly made a fool out of herself.

"So, you're a Goth or something?" Tucker asked eventually, sipping from his coke as he looked Sam up and down. Sam laughed, unsure of the nature of the question.

"I like to see myself as recovering." She smiled jokingly, taking a bite from her salad from who she had danced around since the beginning she had walked in. As expected, there wasn't much flavour to it.

"Huh?" Tucker didn't seem like he understood, so Sam cleared it up again.

"Yes, I'm Goth, I guess. It doesn't really matter if you ask me." .

"Oh no, sorry. It's just that, well, it looks really good on you, it fits." Sam blushed slightly, even if she didn't dare to admit it.

"Quit flirting, you jerk. I thought I told you already." Sam said, a bit irritated.

"Again, my apologies. It's just that I get distracted easily while beholding such beauty." He didn't get much time to wiggle his eyebrows, as Sam punched him in the arm, not too softly even. "Ow!" He exclaimed, a bit shocked as he rubbed the tender spot her fist had just connected with. Sam smiled, satisfied, while Tucker turned to pout, inching away from her slightly.

"What's with this place, anyway? Who even calls their restaurant 'The Nasty Burger', it doesn't sound appealing if you ask me." Sam frowned, leaving her salad be, because the taste was terrible. Tucker laughed, taking a large bite from his burger, grease seeped out of the meat and dripped on his plate. He seemed to enjoy it a lot.

"Hm, some guys thought it was funny to steal the 'T' of 'Tasty' and replace it with a 'N' instead. But the owner could see the humour in it, so he kind of let it be. Nobody still knows where the 'T' exactly ended up, but nobody really cares. So…".

"Oh.".

Some time passed, leaving Sam to tell about her time at Greenpeace, battling the Japanese on their small boats, armed with nothing more than a fire hose as she tried everything to save as many whales as possible. While Tucker on the other hand, told about just finishing his ICT study and thinking about starting his own computer shop soon. They had fun, both relaxing a bit over time. Eventually the topic of her new house came up.

"Wait, hold up, you live in the old FentonWorks?" Tucker asked, surprised at the new information. Sam nodded slowly.

"Uhm, I think so. I mean, the previous owners were called Fenton, if I remember correctly. But really, you shouldn't ask me, I actually bought the whole thing on impulse." She laughed, a bit concerned about Tucker's intense stare. He didn't blink as he leaned in closer, licking his lips as he tried to find to find the right words.

"Dude, that place is haunted." He deadpanned. Sam raised an eyebrow, taken back as if he had just hit her square in the face. Shaking her head in disapproval, she let out a snort.

"Come on Tuck, quit messing around, I'm not feeling it today." She told him, voice breaking slightly. But Tucker didn't look like he was kidding and it was getting her nervous, and all those horror films she'd watched didn't make her feel any more confident.

"No, I'm serious." He said "You know about how there was a fire that burned the whole place to the ground, right?" Sam nodded "Well, apparently they were all in the basement at the time it happened and they all got burned alive. Some people say they still hear them screaming at night, pounding at the walls as they try escape the eternal fire.".

"Really?" Sam asked, feeling a lump grow in her throat. No, this was terrible, nobody had told her any of this. She wouldn't even gone near that thing if that had been the case. Oh god, somewhere she'd knew it all had been too good to be true "You're kidding right?".

As Sam was left to panic, Tucker was trying to maintain a straight face, which he eventually failed at before he burst out in laughter.

"Wha– wait, you're smiling... Oh, you jerk, you freaking jerk." Sam growled, angry at Tucker for scaring her, trying to swat his face out of her vision. Tucker backed away, snickering, taking his coke out of Sam's reach before she could knock it over and ruin his trousers.

"Chill, I was just joking." He laughed, watching Sam calm down and sit back down in her seat. People were looking, and her face turned red from embarrassment. She was just as much a kid herself, and she didn't like to admit it.

"Don't you dare try that again, or I'll break you face." She tried to keep the smile on her face from showing, and she wasn't succeeding. It didn't matter if the threat was empty, because Tucker held up his hands in surrender anyway.

But unfortunately for Sam, the story hadn't been a full lie.

* * *

The basement, the place the fire had started. Well, there had been an explosion first, but it ended the same. What shocked her however, was that the Fentons really _did_ die in this house, and the first corpse had been found at this right exact spot, reduced to nothing more than black ashes. Someone had died, at the exact place she was standing _right now_. And somehow, she hadn't even known.

And she wasn't even sure how it all had happened. The single article she was able to find told her this much, and the house agent wasn't willing to acknowledge the incident ever even happened, no matter how many more times she called. It was as if their whole life had been erased from existence, reduced to mere ghost stories. They had died, and she didn't even know where they laid buried.

The realisation made it difficult for her to breath as the air grew dark and heavy, windpipe slowly closing up. The shadows in the corners crawled her way and tried pulling her in as her vision grew a blurry mess. She wasn't alone, they were watching, ready to take her with to the afterlife, she could feel their hands crawl at her back. She was also was having a panic attack, but sadly, this went unregistered.

And so, she turned to run, climbing up the stairs as she felt the strength leave her limbs, able to just close the door behind her as she fainted. Her dreams haunted by the tortured screams of the diseased family.

* * *

It was just, such a beautiful day, breath-taking even. The sun shone brightly, birds flew high in the clear blue sky and the air was pure and fresh. Sum it all up, and you end up this the perfect day to be busy gardening.

As said before, the house didn't really have a garden to work in, so Sam had to improvise. Luckily, the roof was flat and with some creative thinking and Tucker helping with carrying the many bags of soil, she was able to transform the grey cement into her own little sanctuary. The many different flowers and plants brought life to the otherwise colourless streets.

She couldn't think of a better way to spend her weekend as she laid beside her babies in the warm sun while letting the gentle beams of light kiss her skin. But still, most of the house still stood empty and broken, and she really didn't have the time to finish it all together with just opening her studio. Surprisingly enough, she already got herself enough assignments to keep herself busy for another couple of weeks . Maybe if she just asked her parents for a bit more financial support, she could hire some more guys into helping her out a little. After all, most of the money her Grandmother had left behind was meant for her.

And the house, nothing much suspicious had happened after her little break down, making her red from embarrassment thinking back to it. But for good measure she had tried to purify the whole house anyway, going to her happy place as she had carried the small bowl of incense to every individual room. While after she tried everything in her might to dodge the basement, because no matter how many weeks she had survived in the place, her superstitions always got the better of her. Like how she still didn't like the dark or kept any mirror in her room covered as she went to sleep. As long as it wasn't hindering any other person but herself, she didn't really have a problem with it.

Sam pushed herself up from her comfortable lawn chair to take a sip from her rosé, stroking the sleek leaves of the small orange tree. She was a bit damp from her own sweat, which didn't feel nice as her legs stuck together.

Thinking back to the house again, she felt a slight pressure in her chest. She was starting to notice the largeness of the whole thing and the many guestrooms she was going to have left once she finished building and decorating, and the loneliness that accompanied it. Perhaps she should ring up some of her friends, ask if they'd like to visit, stay for a bit.

Walking down to fix herself a quick snack, she thought she heard something, but dismissed it as just her paranoia acting up again.

* * *

Sam awoke because of a loud crashing sound, followed by suspicious rustling and silence. Her first thoughts were the ghosts, but soon realized a burglar was way more likely. It made her scared, feeling her heart pound in her throat as she was unable to keep still under her blankets while she listened to the burglar move around her house.

But after a view minutes, she realised the baseball bat hidden underneath her bed, specially bought for these kind of situations. Sure to be quiet, Sam reached under her bed, hands clamped around the handle and immediately feeling more confident. If she was quick, it wouldn't be much of a problem to knock the guy out, call the police and make sure to install an alarm afterwards. Maybe even get a dog, a German Shepard or something, for a bit more manpower the next time.

The house was dark, making it difficult to see where she was placing her feet. It was a big relieve she finally had the carpet laid, muffling her steps and giving her a slight advantage. But her heart was pounding so loudly she could hear it in her own head and her grip on the bat slipped in her clammy hands, who she repeatedly tried to wipe clean on her pants, but didn't really help any. She was afraid to breath, of making her location known to guy strolling around her house, getting a bit dizzy.

Very slowly and very carefully, Sam walked towards the kitchen where she heard the source of strange sounds come from. She wasn't in the best spot, she realised, but there wasn't a wide variation of places she could choose from to ambush him, so she stayed and waited for the perfect moment to knock him out.

Whispering a few encouraging words to herself, she was ready to leap and attack her pray like a graceful cheetah, but stopped as she saw big electric green eyes look up at her surprised from above her refrigerator door, bat still raised high above her head.

Wait, was that kid eating her pickles?

* * *

Uploaded: 20-01-14


End file.
